Khazâd ai mênu!
by smalldiver
Summary: Eldarion has an extremely innapropriate crush. Slash. Kind of.


Pairing: Gimli/Eldarion. Yes, you heard me.

Rating: T, I think…

A/N: Just a little something sparked by a challenge by my daughter, Pinky, on the Library of Moria Message board where you had to write a fic around a pairing found on the random pairing generator. This was banged out in not much time at all, so it isn't perfect. Just a little silliness really. 'Khazâd ai-mênu!' means 'The dwarves are upon you!' btw ;D.

Warning: Slash. Yep, that's right. Man on, er, dwarf.

Eldarion never cared much for sword play. Oh, he could wield a blade as well as the next person; better, since he had the finest tutors money could buy, and it would only be fitting for the heir to the throne. But when it came down to it, the nitty-gritty-just-for-the-fun-of-it-sparring, he just wasn't interested. That was more his sister, Gilraen's thing (in Eldarion's opinion, she'd spent far too much time with the Lady Eowyn, but he'd never voice such thoughts aloud for fear of his manhood).

What Eldarion loved most was the _feel_ of the blade. How to cast a weapon perfectly, refine it, hone it, and build something that would be treasured for years. There was nothing he liked better than the feel of raw steel beneath his fingers and knowing he could turn it into something wonderful. Eldarion loved to _create,_ rather than destroy.

So, when he was given time off from his studies, he wouldn't rush to the practice courts or the stables like any other lad his age. He'd run down to the Blacksmith's on the Sixth Level. The prince could sit and watch for hours as the bellows blew, hammers pounded away, and yellow-hot steel was fashioned into the desired form.

That was where he'd first seen _him_.

Eldarion had been horrified when he'd first realised that the twisting feeling in his stomach wasn't entirely due to the blade in front of him. It was inappropriate to fancy your father's old friends. It was even worse if it was a male friend.

It was calamitous, when it was a dwarf.

Eldarion often saw the dwarves around the city. Even now, nearly twenty years after the War, there were still repairs to be made; and of course the only people capable of servicing the great mithril gates properly were those who had made them.

Their leader, Gimli, often came to visit the Palace from his home in the Algarond caves in Rohan. His gruff yet amiable demeanour had immediately made a friend out of Eldarion, who looked forward to his visits as a child, eager to see what mesmerizing toy he'd made and brought for him this time.

It wasn't until his nineteenth year, and he was presented with this… _vision_ in front of him, shirt off in the hot room, muscles contracting with each strike at the steel in front of him; that Eldarion began to have distinctly… _friendlier _thoughts.

From then on, it was awful. Every time they were in a room together, Eldarion began to feel distinctly hot under the collar. And then he realised the connotations of words like "Bang" "Hard" "Delve" and "Clench"; all of which are unavoidable in conversation with a dwarf; and was hard pressed not to run straight to the toilet and 'sort himself out' every time this happened.

However, Eldarion had been trained well in diplomacy, so he thought he'd managed to hide his feeling quite well.

Until his birthday.

His mother, having retained her elvish love of feasts, took the opportunity to throw a massive celebration, inviting every noble in Arda, or so it seemed.

Naturally, Gimli came along.

Everything was running relatively smoothly, until the dancing afterwards. Eldarion, courtesy of a fair few ales, noticed how close Prince Legolas was standing to the dwarf; and he actually _growled_. How dare that pansy assume to have a chance with _his_ dwarf? He wasn't even well muscled!

Gimli apparently noticed, and threw him a glance. However, he went back to chatting with the elvish prince, so Eldarion thought he'd gotten away with it. Until he looked up from his seventh ale to discover the Dwarf Lord standing right in front of him.

"Come with me laddie." He rumbled, and Eldarion was so captivated that he trotted along without even taking the command in.

As soon as they were out of sight, Gimli yanked the Prince down and kissed him. Really kissed. As in, star-bursting, mind-blowing… Eldarion now knew what was meant when they said "The secret tongue of the dwarves"

When it was over, the dazed Prince could only gape.

"A word of advice, laddie." Gimli said, poking him in the chest. "Dwarves are straightforward people, so subtlety does not work."

Finally getting it, Eldarion smiled. "Forgive me, Master Dwarf, I shall rectify that situation immediately." Tugging Gimli along to his bedchambers, he continued. "I believe there are a few theories about dwarven endurance that I wish to investigate…"


End file.
